//------------------------------// // Rulers // Story: Tomb Kings of Equestria // by FleetlordAvatar //------------------------------// Equestria: The Crystal Empire The sun shone down on the glittering majesty of the Crystal Empire, dancing off the gemstone buildings and the shimmering bodies of the Crystal Ponies until the streets were dappled with patterns of rainbow light. Towering over it all, the Crystal Palace of Princess Cadance and Shining Armour rose majestically skyward, the energies of the Crystal Heart spreading out from its peak in dazzling patterns of light and colour that made up the shield which protected the Empire from the harsh blizzards of Equestria’s frozen north. Inside, Princess Cadence was waking up. With a yawn, the pink alicorn rolled over, reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of her queen sized bed. Cracking open an eyelid, she took in the sight of her husband dozing in front of her. She giggled to herself at the sight of the stallions blue mane sticking into the air at odd angles, Shining armour always seemed to get severer bed hair no matter what he did. Snuggling herself closer so she could share in his warmth, the alicorn princess sighed contently as she prepared to go back to sleep. “You know, we’re going to have to get up eventually,” muttered Shining Armour. “I know,” replied Cadence. “But you’re so soft and warm, can’t we call off court for today and just lie here.” “Now honey you know we can’t do that,” he replied. “Twiley is coming for her visit today and we want to look presentable,” “I know,” replied Cadence, snuggling closer. “But she’s not coming until this afternoon; can’t we just spend the morning in bed?” “…maybe just a few more minutes.” Sadly, all good things must come to an end and the royal couple did eventually have to leave the comfort of their bed. Although they didn’t move far, deciding to have their breakfast sent up from the palace kitchens. The dining hall was good for when they had guests and stately visits, but it felt so impersonal for the two ponies, so they had a table and chairs set up in their chambers so they could enjoy a more intimate meal. As Cadence was daintily sipping on a cup of mint tea, her husband scanned a newspaper that had been brought up with their food. “Anything interesting?” she asked. “Nothing at all,” replied Shining Armour. “It’s been like this since Twiley and her friends beat Tirek.” The two royals shuddered as they remembered just how close the centaur had come to seizing Equestria. “That’s good,” she replied. Hopefully it means her visit will go on without a hitch.” “I thought you enjoyed taking care of chaos gods that faked illness,” replied her husband, referencing Cadences’ last attempt to spend time with her sister in law. “Well, aside from the life threatening peril, I did have a good time,” she confessed. “But I think I would have still enjoyed the Starswirl the Bearded Travelling Museum. Twilight even wore her Nightmare Night Costume for the occasion.” “Is that the Starswirl robe with the bells?” asked Shining Armour. His wife nodded and he chuckled a little. “You know she has costumes for Starswirl for every one of his ‘phases.’ “Phases?” questioned Cadance. “Apparently he was something of an eccentric, according to Twilight most ponies only know him from later in his life. When he was younger he went through something of an identity crisis and wore several different outfits while he studied magic.” “Really? What like?” “Twilight says when he studied the fundamentals of Zebra magic, he took to wearing a grass skirt and had his mane shaved into a Mohawk.” Cadence could help herself and burst out laughing at the mental image of the elderly unicorn mage with a Mohawk. “Wow,” she laughed. “That sounds like quite the sight.” “It gets better,” replied Shining Armour with a few chuckles of his own. “To study seapony magic he had to visit Marelantia. So, in order to breathe underwater he tried to turn himself into a seapony.” “Did it work?” “Not how he intended, he was able to breathe, but he was stuck with a fish head for six weeks.” The two howled with laughter at the mental image of Equestria's foremost unicorn mage as a reverse-seapony. “I can see why this information isn’t widely known,” said Cadance, wiping a few tears from her eye. “Not everypony knows Starswirl wasn’t always a master wizard, he had to start somewhere.” “So did Twiley,” replied her husband. “Have you seen her castle?” “I did, it looks magnificent,” she replied. “She really has come far hasn’t she?” “She has,” replied Shining Armour, wistfully. “I am so proud of her.” “We all are,” said Cadance, lightly touching her husband’s hoof. “Maybe I should take her to buy some furniture? I don’t think the Tree of Harmony provided much beyond those thrones for her and her friends.” “I think she would like that, she took the loss of the library hard. so maybe you can see about some new books as well.” “That’s a brilliant idea Shiny,” she replied, leaning across the table to kiss him. “The Empire has hundreds of books not seen for a thousand years; she’ll cheer up in no time once she sees the library.” Both ponies smiled at the thought of Twilights face when she saw all those books, if there was one thing that would cheer her up, it was the prospect of something new to read. As the two discussed a few other ideas over what else they could do during Twilights visit, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Getting up, Shining Armour opened it to reveal one of the Crystal Guard. Like nearly everypony in the Empire, his body looked like it was made of purest gemstone, while this armour resembled the finest cut glass. “Sorry to disturb you before court sir,” he said. “That’s alright Diamond Edge,” replied Shining Armour. “I wouldn’t have you as my second if I thought you would stand on ceremony. So, what’s the problem?” “Actually, I think it might be better if you see it for yourself,” he replied, pointing to the doors that separated the balcony from the bedchamber. Turning, Shining Armour crossed to the double doors and pulled them open, a warm breeze with just the slightest hint of winter wafted over him, but there was something else in the air, something that made the hairs of his coat prick with anticipation. As former captain of Equestria's Royal Guard, Shining Armour knew that something wasn’t right; the streets below should be alive with chatter as the Crystal Ponies went about their daily business, but now he could hear the sounds of steadily rising panic. Cadence must have heard it too, because she joined him on the balcony a moment later. Looking out over the Empire, they saw that Crystal ponies in the streets below were galloping inside as fast as their hooves could carry them. “It’s over there sir, by the edge of the shield” said Diamond Edge, pointing a hoof beyond the city. Looking up, the rulers of the Crystal Empire followed the stallion's hoof to the shields border. Normally the raging blizzards of the northlands meant that the only thing visible beyond was a white cloud of snowflakes, but this time there was a dark mist slowly spreading out to surround the city, and in the shadows, Shining Armour saw a pair of green eyes take shape while an army of figures materialised within the cloud. “Twilight can’t ever have a normal visit can she?” Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The Old World: Nehekhara The hash desert winds blew the sand into a fury as they burned beneath the relentless heat of the sun, but this was of no consequence to the rider, his body heavily swathed in a stifling bundle of protective rags. His horse was similarly unfazed by the raging sands, but that was because the animal had been dead when he found it, its bones stripped bare by scavengers and sandstorms. Now the skeletal steed lived only as an extension of his will. He would normally have foregone such an obvious display of power, but time was rapidly running out. To the untrained eye this part of the desert was much like the rest, sand as far as the eye could see, although the large crater was somewhat unusual. Furthermore, the sand here was white, similar to ground marble, and much finer than the usual coarse grains that blanketed the rest of the land. Dismounting, he reached out with his power, feeling the remnants of ancient magic that once resided here; magic that had recently been claimed by another. Continuing to search the landscape, he eventually sensed something in dunes. Trudging over, he dropped to his knees and cleaned the sand from around the hidden object, revealing a bleached human skull with a single glyph carved into the forehead. Returning to the undead horse, he tucked the grisly item into his rags before pulling himself back into the saddle. Willing the steed to a gallop, he raced across the desert towards a series of distant sand dunes. His destination was well hidden; a combination of the shifting dunes, sandstorms and a series of expertly woven spells hid a large camp from prying eyes. It was also far from anything that could support a living observer, and it took several hours to reach it. When he finally arrived, the rider maneuvered his steed through a collection of small tents that were clustered tightly around one large pavilion. Cautiously willing his mount past several heavily robed figures that silently moved between the tents, the rider dismounted in front of the pavilion and pushed aside the tent flap. It was made of  heavy material and so the inside was almost as black as a moonless night. To compensate, green balefire, held in a series of bronze braziers, cast an unearthly glow over the interior. Before the rider was a map table, carpeted with the yellowed parchment of ancient scrolls. Surrounding it were three figures, decked out in the decayed finery of a fallen nation. To his left stood the mighty Hassep, King of Lybaras and one of the most powerful rulers of the first Dynasty. His leathery skin was pulled tight over his bones, trapping his features in a frightful grimace for eternity. To his right was Phar, a master of strategy who was never afraid to lend his own might to the field of battle. Unlike Hassep, his features were devoid of flesh, which left a grinning skull to face the world around him. On the far side of the map table stood the final member of their company, centuries ago he had been one of the finest minds in Nehekhara, but with no military triumphs support him, his dynasty fell into obscurity with the rise of Settra. Unlike his peers, his bones were black as coal and the pitted silver of his finery refused to reflect even the balefire, only the twin pricks of light that blazed in his eye sockets were visible in the darkness. He was King Usur, ruler of the lost Black Legion, and leader of the last free Tomb Kings. With the creaking of ancient bones, he skirted the table to meet the rider, offering a skeletal hand in greeting. “My lords, I have returned” said the rider, in a voice that hissed like shifting sand. “Rise my son, there is no need to be so formal.” Prince Sepa looked up at his father’s hand before taking it, allow his sire to pull him into a familial embrace. “I’m glad to see you return.” “Indeed,” replied Phar. “Any longer and Usur might have considered you lost.” “I apologise for taking so long,” replied Sepa as his father released him. “But I felt the ruins of Khemri were worth one last detour.” “And did you find anything?” asked Hassep. “Possibly,” he replied, removing the branded skull from his rags. “By the gods,” exclaimed Phar, as he took an involuntary step back. “Prince Apophas survived?” “That’s debatable,” replied Usur, taking the skull from his son's grasp. “If he had, then I doubt Sepa would have been able to put him inside his wrappings. Would you mind fetching Rehu for me son, he should be with the rest of the Liche Priests.” With a nod to his father, Sepa exited the tent, returning a few moments later with Usurs’ head priest, and one of the few surviving members of Nehekaras’ famous Mortuary Cult. A hunched figure, Rehu, along with the entire Cult, had been tasked long ago with unlocking the secrets of eternal life, even going so far as to bind their souls to their physical bodies in order to extend their lifespan. He had been quite handsome in his prime, but now, what remained of his parchment like skin was stretched tightly over ancient bones that were as black as his masters. His robes, once examples of the finest craftsmanship, were dull, mouldy and moth eaten. His gnarled fingers clung tightly to his staff of office, while an undead vulture steadied itself on his shoulder. “You summoned me my lord?” he hissed. “Sepa found this near the ruins of Khemri,” replied Usur, handing him the skull. “Can you tell us if Apophas somehow lives?” Running a mummified hand over its surface, the liche priest muttered a few ancient syllables, the rite used to awaken dormant Tomb Kings from their slumber. The rulers stood in silence as he repeated the rite several times, however, after several attempts Rehu stopped. “Interesting,” he muttered. “What is?” asked Hassep “My lord, I sense that Prince Apophas does indeed live, but he is not responding to my attempts to wake him.” “Maybe Nagash somehow trapped him? He was never one to outright kill an opponent when he could torment them for eternity,” replied Phar. “I get the feeling that Nagash would rather have obliterated him for attempted assassination,” replied Prince Sepa. “Apophas did try to impale him, and bury him in scarabs.” “How can we even be sure that’s even Apophas in there?” enquired Hassep, pointing at the skull. “It might be a trick for all we know.” “I assure you mighty one”, interrupted Rehu. “That the spirit of Prince Apophas still resides in his remains. Why he refuses to wake is another matter, it’s like his spirit is in a suspended state, neither in this world or the next.” “Regardless, if his spirit survived then we must take him with us,” said Usur. “Keep trying to wake him, but in the meantime, tend to the souls we have gathered.” “Of course my lord,” replied Rehu, and he shuffled out of the tent. “I don’t trust him;” hissed Phar “That priest has too many secrets.” “We all have our secrets,” replied Usur. “Was there anything else of note recovered my son?” Sepa shook his head. “I am sorry father, but I found nothing,” “I see… go to your tent, once the remaining riders return we are breaking camp.” “Yes father.” With a bow, Prince Sepa departed. “A fine son,” commented Hassep. “Thank you,” replied Usur. “I am proud of what he has done since taking command of my army.” “Indeed,” sneered Phar. “Maybe if your soldiers had been at Khemri, we would have defeated Nagash. Instead we are now forced to skulk in desert like scavengers.” “Need I remind you that it was my men that found your remains scattered about Numas,” retorted Usur, his eyes flaring dangerously. “Not to mention is was my magic that allowed your spirit to be restored from oblivion. Throwing away my army at Khemri would have been like pissing in the wind, if any of us could still do such a thing.” “Then we should take advantage of what we have now,” said Hassep. “You have thousands of warriors, not just The Black Legion, but the remains of Settras own warriors, monoliths and necrotitans that we have recovered from across the desert. We should march on Nagash and-” “Do what Hassep?” interrupted Usur. “The very being who cursed us with eternal undeath not only returned from the grave, yet again, but faced the full might of Nehekhara and it was still not enough. Lhamia, Zandri, Numas and even Khemri have been reduced to sand, and the only reason the army we have exists is because I left at the start of the Tomb Wars to resume my research, the results of which mean that none of those here are in his thrall.” The two kings unconsciously ran their fingers over a series of glyphs that now scarred their bodies, the product of centuries dissecting, sometimes literally, the secrets of Dwarven Rune Smithing. A combination of this knowledge and Nehekharan magic ensured that they were hidden from Nagash’s power. “Do I also need to remind you that those runes only work because we are so far away, if we move within a few miles of the Black Pyramid they will fail and our souls will be forfeit. You are asking me to fight the being that killed the God of the Underworld and left his pet necromancer in his place. Out of the billions of souls he has since enthralled, we were only able to recover a few thousand.” Usur began to pace as he continued recounting recent events to his fellow rulers, working his way around the table as he did. “He destroyed nearly all the Mortuary Cult before they realised that the gods no longer answer our prayers! Nagash is beyond anything mortal, magic or otherwise, he tore Settra the Imperishable limb from limb and scattered him so far into the desert that we must consider him lost.” Finally reaching the head of the table, he turned to face the other kings. “We cannot fight him, it would be our doom.” “I cannot accept that,” said Phar. “A true king fights to the end, even as their doom approaches.” “Look where that left you,” retorted Hassep. “At least I didn’t flee the field and hide under a rock, coward!” “My son’s remains took priority!” “Your son was turned to sand! There was nothing to take priority!” “SILENCE!” Usurs declaration shook the tent, the balefire of his eyes blazing in the dark. “You argue like carrion birds over a corpse!” he snapped. “Fighting Nagash is not up for debate, not when I have a plan to put us beyond his reach forever.” “…what do you mean?” asked Phar hesitantly. “Nagash appears all powerful, but his arrogance, his certainty of purpose, means he often overlooks key details. He did not look for me or my army because I had few military victories recorded in history and I ensured my secrecy by having any other record destroyed. He was beaten by the barbarian King Sigmar because he thought himself to be stronger and underestimated his opponent. The warriors, spirits and necrotitians we have gathered here were ignored because they appeared too weak or broken to be of any use. He claims absolute power, yet arrogance is his one weakness, one we can exploit.” Rifling through the papers that were scattered about the war table, Usur produced an ancient scroll. Unrolling it for his fellows, they saw its edges were lined with the flowing script of the elves, but mixed with the angular shapes of Dwarven runes. However, there was also a third language present, one that neither Phar nor Hassep recognised. The centre of the scroll was dominated by the image of a colossal mirror, and surrounding it were depictions of both Elves and Dwarves, as well as what appeared to be a mix of unicorns, pegasi and normal horses, as well as two alicorns flanking the mirror. Above the image was a depiction of the lunar cycle, with a particular alignment of the moons and stars singled out from the others. “What is this?” asked Hassep. “This is how we shall escape Nagash,” replied Usur. “This scroll is ancient, from long before the Great betrayal of the Dwarves. It is from before Nagash, from before Nehekhara, from before mankind's first tentative steps towards civilisation.” His eyes blazing with energy, Usur tapped the image with a finger. “It has taken me centuries to translate the third language on this scroll, but when I finally accomplished it, I was astounded. This image depicts a portal to another world, and the ritual required to use it. With this knowledge we shall make Nagash think that all Nehhekhara is in his thrall, by leaving this world entirely.” “Leave…the world?” “Yes!” replied Usur. “I have already located the portal shown on the scroll and my men have been making the necessary preparations. In just a few days, the alignment depicted here will occur and we shall open it, putting ourselves beyond Nagash’s reach forever.” “No!” snapped Phar. “I shall not slink away like some thief in the night when we can avenge our people, there is no honour in this!” With reflexes that shouldn’t have been possible for a mummified corpse, Usurs hand shot out and grabbed Phar by the throat. He then slammed the Tomb King’s skull into the table with enough force to split the fossilised wood in two. “There is also no honour in dying needlessly before the walls of your own city!” he hissed dangerously. “Remember, I pulled your spirit from oblivion and I can just as easily send it back.” Dragging Phar to his feet, Usur threw him into one of braziers. As it clattered to the floor, the inferno within caught on the kings mouldy robes, causing Hassep to run across and beat out the flames before they engulfed his fellow ruler. “What about you Hassep?” growled Usur, still with a threatening glint in his eye sockets. “Are you going to stay and needlessly die just so you can try to avenge your son?” Hassep stayed quiet, his wasn’t a coward by any means, but he knew when it was best to keep his mouth shut. “Good, go and assemble your men. The sooner we leave the better.”